he knew all of psalm 27 by heart.
"the lord is my light and salvation; whom shall i fear?" he prayed the opening lines of the first verse in a rumbled whisper. "the lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall i be afraid?" he felt his voice give way at the last syllable.
"the lord is my light and salvation; whom shall i fear?" he prayed the opening lines of the first verse in a rumbled whisper. "the lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall i be afraid?" he felt his voice give way at the last syllable.
knelt in front of the locker-room's bathroom counter, ares had the brunt of mighty forearms pressed to the edge, elbows set in a respectful slouch and vein-ridden hands pressed to interweave fingers in a praying clasp. his head was ducked, water-wet hair slicked to partially hide his angled face in a dark canopy.
subconsciously, he was thankful.
the strands aided in veiling the weakened crease of his brow.
deep and gravel-sounding, his voice reverberated off the tile of the empty corridor, tone taking on a solemn softness (a similar softness that cast over closed lids). verbally, he seemed somewhere between a whisper and a throaty rasp.
"when the wicked came against me to eat up my flesh, my enemies and foes - they stumble and fell. though an army may encamp against me, my heart shall not fear," he steadied a parting lower lip that quivered in a pause, and with a clearing of his throat, he pursed his mouth in regained strength, continuing: "though war may rise against me, in this i will be confident..."
javier, ares' instructor, was behind at a respectful distance, head lowered too, only this was result of patient thought on the impending minutes. he paced slow, to-and-fro, close to the low-set benches that lined the lockers, letting his apprentice have a sacred moment.
somewhere in the distance, behind both ares and javier too, the far-off echo of the arena's huge walls bounced with the beginning of the next match on the fight card. that meant ares' match was set to make his entrance within the cusp of the half hour.
"...and lead me in a smooth path, because of my enemies. do not deliver me into the will of my adversaries; for false witnesses have risen against me--" the shallow depth of his murmured voice faltered in his own windpipe, breath caught by the words, but he let his lashes titter with still-closed eyes to will his voice back. "--and they breathe out violence. i would have lost heart, unless i had believed that i would see the goodness of the lord in the land of the living..."
javier set his hands on his hips and turned his head down further, hearing ares garner increasing quiet and offer only the sound of a wavering hum and hard breath out. a wet sniff followed, though the action of rubbing at his nose was hidden by a broad back and turned head, a cluster of fingers went to pinch the inner corners of his shut eyes. unrelenting, despite struggle, he finished the twenty-seventh psalm with what little verbal momentum he had left about him, beyond the heel of his palm where he still squeezed sinuses:
"wait patiently for the lord, be brave and courageous. yes, wait patiently for the lord."
just as silence sifted in, and ares was pushing his weight off the hard tile to straighten, face averted and body moved to gradually teeter from the horizontal stretch of the mirror. javier's brow knotted in confusion, and as he was going to inquire, the crowd's white noise sifted back through the void of the locker room and interrupted him. so he spoke over it:
"are you cryin'? that one usually gets you on the up, dude. you aren't flippin' out, are you? i--"
"i'm alright. just give me a sec." ares interlinked fingers atop his head, elbows high to allow his lungs capacity to breathe out what emotion remained ringing through. still turned away, he made slow paces where the bathroom stalls ended.
"don't psyche out, believe those words, you got this, why're you cryi--"
ares' voice, lulled, shot soft with distress into the hollow corner: "because i wonder if god will ever forgive me for what i do to these men."
javier, round-eyed, tried to press his lips together for a good response.
an omniscient voice rang all around:
'ARES CANDELARIO, STANDING SIX-FOOT-FOUR, WEIGHING TWO-HUNDRED AND SIXTY-FIVE POUNDS, HAILING FROM MARINA CALIFORNIA...' one step forward, he made his presence known to the masses, and much like a king emerging from balcony curtain, there was a dissonant cry of praise from below. he descended the arena steps, surrounded by his in-ring entourage, staring daggers into the cage where his opponent awaited him...
that was when the blur took hold.
'ARES CANDELARIO, STANDING SIX-FOOT-FOUR, WEIGHING TWO-HUNDRED AND SIXTY-FIVE POUNDS, HAILING FROM MARINA CALIFORNIA...' one step forward, he made his presence known to the masses, and much like a king emerging from balcony curtain, there was a dissonant cry of praise from below. he descended the arena steps, surrounded by his in-ring entourage, staring daggers into the cage where his opponent awaited him...
that was when the blur took hold.
the minutes and seconds that it took to get to the octagon itself had dissolved away.
pushing his weight against the few steel steps that led to the cage door, he stood like a pillar, unblinking, waiting for the referee to heave the threshold open. ares' eyes themselves, like predatory slits, were set beyond the official's shoulder and shot right into his opponent's direction in the near distance.
as soon as the cross-hatched door was pulled open, ares stepped in, his entourage floating the fighter towards their side of the geometric fighting ring. they tended to pulling up ares' stool meant for rest between rounds, readied the spitting bucket, ordered around the various water bottles... ares had pulled off his t-shirt, tossed it blindly to the side, and started pacing at an idled pace, like a wild animal confined to zoo glass. back-and-forth, to-and-fro, still not looking away from his adversary.
"you got this," and "think power," and "get it done"? all of the verbal encouragement from instructors and support alike, he couldn't hear any of it. couldn't feel javier's hands slapping his shoulder, either. the brilliance of the lights overhead, the collective crowd noise, the playing of interim music, even as it faded off, hadn't been registered in ares' senses.
only when the referee stood at the center of the octagon, and beckoned the fighters forward, did ares have any intelligent thought.
standing his full height, shoulders squared, biceps loose from his body, he made a slow saunter to the middle of the mat and stopped right before his foe. the other man took it upon himself to close most of the inches between them, and being slightly taller, geared his head down hard at ares in blatant challenge.
unaffected by the gesture, expressionless, the translucent heat of gray eyes shallowed considerably as he stared into his opponent's pupils. he tipped his chin up in defiance at the man that peered down at him.
the referee, meanwhile, brisked through the fight rules, voice straining against all the sounds that surrounded them.
much quieter than the referee, and even the arena's feedback, ares opened a wry lip to soundlessly mouth a single syllable into the enemy's glare.
"run."
and just like the fifteen fighters before him, travis browne's expression faltered, if only for a second.
pushing his weight against the few steel steps that led to the cage door, he stood like a pillar, unblinking, waiting for the referee to heave the threshold open. ares' eyes themselves, like predatory slits, were set beyond the official's shoulder and shot right into his opponent's direction in the near distance.
as soon as the cross-hatched door was pulled open, ares stepped in, his entourage floating the fighter towards their side of the geometric fighting ring. they tended to pulling up ares' stool meant for rest between rounds, readied the spitting bucket, ordered around the various water bottles... ares had pulled off his t-shirt, tossed it blindly to the side, and started pacing at an idled pace, like a wild animal confined to zoo glass. back-and-forth, to-and-fro, still not looking away from his adversary.
"you got this," and "think power," and "get it done"? all of the verbal encouragement from instructors and support alike, he couldn't hear any of it. couldn't feel javier's hands slapping his shoulder, either. the brilliance of the lights overhead, the collective crowd noise, the playing of interim music, even as it faded off, hadn't been registered in ares' senses.
only when the referee stood at the center of the octagon, and beckoned the fighters forward, did ares have any intelligent thought.
standing his full height, shoulders squared, biceps loose from his body, he made a slow saunter to the middle of the mat and stopped right before his foe. the other man took it upon himself to close most of the inches between them, and being slightly taller, geared his head down hard at ares in blatant challenge.
unaffected by the gesture, expressionless, the translucent heat of gray eyes shallowed considerably as he stared into his opponent's pupils. he tipped his chin up in defiance at the man that peered down at him.
the referee, meanwhile, brisked through the fight rules, voice straining against all the sounds that surrounded them.
much quieter than the referee, and even the arena's feedback, ares opened a wry lip to soundlessly mouth a single syllable into the enemy's glare.
"run."
and just like the fifteen fighters before him, travis browne's expression faltered, if only for a second.
'someone, help me with him! help! he's too--'
two male medical staff rushed to javier's aid at once, to help force ares against the brunt of the examination table. 'you're okay, bud! hey! snap out of it! hey!' javier urged, in the midst of struggling him downward. ares clutched the towel slung over his head, doused in blood and sweat, fought to pull it across his nose self-consciously, then yanked a gashed forearm away from someone gripping at it. 'does he always get this way!?' desperation rang from the voice of the younger medic, riding the adrenaline-wild thrashes from ares, only half pinned.
'not unless he's really hur--' javier was interrupted by a hard push and grunt, barely hanging on. 'arcel! you gotta let us look!'
two male medical staff rushed to javier's aid at once, to help force ares against the brunt of the examination table. 'you're okay, bud! hey! snap out of it! hey!' javier urged, in the midst of struggling him downward. ares clutched the towel slung over his head, doused in blood and sweat, fought to pull it across his nose self-consciously, then yanked a gashed forearm away from someone gripping at it. 'does he always get this way!?' desperation rang from the voice of the younger medic, riding the adrenaline-wild thrashes from ares, only half pinned.
'not unless he's really hur--' javier was interrupted by a hard push and grunt, barely hanging on. 'arcel! you gotta let us look!'
unphased by the tries to contain him, ares used his combat instinct to writhe hard enough to fight until he was able to turn outward, away from the table, even as six hands gripped and pushed at him in the opposing direction.
javier, being a seasoned fighter and master of muay thai, couldn't simply restrain any longer.
using a striking reflex, the smaller man used the force of his forearm and entrapped ares at the chest, underneath the throat in a borderline choke, and reached down by his muscled knee to hit a pressure point that would instantaneously weaken and stun anyone, despite their stature. with rippled arms partially unusable, due to the medical staff having them in a bind, he was stuck.
ares went limp, head hung and panted underneath the sweat towel hanging in his face.
"i'm gonna let you go dude, but you gotta calm down, okay? there's something not right with you, i can tell, if you just let us take a look, we'll figure out something we can do for you." javier spoke evenly, keeping the slate of his arm in it's place, to ensure confirmation from his student.
only a faint nod in reply, gripping at the fabric around his cheek, attempting to straighten his shoulders against all the confinement
the instructor was the first to let go, and hesitantly, the two medical aids eased off, leaving ares to pull himself up a slump against the table's edge. he used weakened hands, half-caked with dry blood, in attempt to turn around and get himself up onto the exam table.
"here, dude," javier loosely held ares around his broad, bare back and helped keep him stable as he pushed onto the small step in built in at the base of the table, easing him to sit and then stepped back to give him space to adjust.
ares hunched over, heels finding indents in the table so that elbows could rest on knees, then let his shrouded head fall again.
"we're going to have to take this off of you to get a better look at your face..." the younger medical staff reached out hesitantly, but after a look from javier, he retracted his hand.
tired hands moved up and scooped the stained material away from his head in a swipe to reveal, though he kept his head geared down. one eye was steadily puffing up, thick lower lip split, dried red splotched here and there in patterns, his bridge of his nose was starting to turn dark colors and a slow crimson trickle seeped from his left nostril.
despite the moderate damage, nothing looked too alarming.
javier stood back and crossed his arms, bent down slightly to get a better look at the crestfallen face, while one medical staff went to a large case to fetch out standard first aid tools, and the other also craned down to try and look for harsher infliction.
"man, you don't look too bad... what was the fit for?"
ares neglected to reply, swallowed with a closed mouth and kept his eyes at the cement floor.
by then, one medic had been back with a handful of q-tips and canister of jelly to put any superficial bleeding on his face to a halt. the other crept around his associate, purple latex gloves moving to press a very careful hand to a welt that was condensing hard against ares' bicep.
"what's your pain level on this, ares? it looks like the skin is almost broken, not quite... 1 to 10?"
"seven." ares hardened, lifted his head to allow the man to dab at his face with the cotton tips. a free hand went to inky strands, which were clung randomly across his swollen jaw, against his neck, slicked to the raked skin of both shoulders. his fingers shook as he attempted to push the wet hair away.
"how about here? 1-10?"
"f-five."
"does this hurt? right here?"
"not bad."
javier started to notice something different forming in ares' face, and it wasn't necessarily mirrored with pain, didn't look quite stricken - it more or less read nervousness. he could see the bouldered muscles of his shoulders start to perk and rise, tense, and his fists were clasped against the table's edge in a healthy grip. what was he holding back?
"that looks pretty bruised, there. can you feel it when i do this?"
"yeah..." there was something uncharacteristically soft about ares' voice, not to mention his lower lip.
"can you tilt your head back for me? right into the light?"
"yes..." the man's voice, hushed, sounded almost like a squeak, as he did what was instructed.
the instructor's brow knotted itself and lowered, watching hot pools of moisture gather, glass over ares' upward eyes until they were brimming full: "buddy, if something really does kill, you gotta say something." javier paused. "you gotta tell us"
"yeah, right underneath his eye, see here? his eye is going to be swollen shut by tomorrow morning.."
"yeah, i see that. this eye isn't too bad."
"arcel." javier urged, spying that ares's grip on the table's edge was now white-knuckled, and the tears he tried to will away had rolled from the corner of his eyes, face still in the ceiling.
the examination came to a halt. the medics stepped back and both exchanged looks of confusion with javier.
"what is it, arcel? arcel, what hurts? this doesn't match up, what's going on?" the mentor stepped closer and tried to look for something they had to have been missing.
"i want my mom..."
javier, being a seasoned fighter and master of muay thai, couldn't simply restrain any longer.
using a striking reflex, the smaller man used the force of his forearm and entrapped ares at the chest, underneath the throat in a borderline choke, and reached down by his muscled knee to hit a pressure point that would instantaneously weaken and stun anyone, despite their stature. with rippled arms partially unusable, due to the medical staff having them in a bind, he was stuck.
ares went limp, head hung and panted underneath the sweat towel hanging in his face.
"i'm gonna let you go dude, but you gotta calm down, okay? there's something not right with you, i can tell, if you just let us take a look, we'll figure out something we can do for you." javier spoke evenly, keeping the slate of his arm in it's place, to ensure confirmation from his student.
only a faint nod in reply, gripping at the fabric around his cheek, attempting to straighten his shoulders against all the confinement
the instructor was the first to let go, and hesitantly, the two medical aids eased off, leaving ares to pull himself up a slump against the table's edge. he used weakened hands, half-caked with dry blood, in attempt to turn around and get himself up onto the exam table.
"here, dude," javier loosely held ares around his broad, bare back and helped keep him stable as he pushed onto the small step in built in at the base of the table, easing him to sit and then stepped back to give him space to adjust.
ares hunched over, heels finding indents in the table so that elbows could rest on knees, then let his shrouded head fall again.
"we're going to have to take this off of you to get a better look at your face..." the younger medical staff reached out hesitantly, but after a look from javier, he retracted his hand.
tired hands moved up and scooped the stained material away from his head in a swipe to reveal, though he kept his head geared down. one eye was steadily puffing up, thick lower lip split, dried red splotched here and there in patterns, his bridge of his nose was starting to turn dark colors and a slow crimson trickle seeped from his left nostril.
despite the moderate damage, nothing looked too alarming.
javier stood back and crossed his arms, bent down slightly to get a better look at the crestfallen face, while one medical staff went to a large case to fetch out standard first aid tools, and the other also craned down to try and look for harsher infliction.
"man, you don't look too bad... what was the fit for?"
ares neglected to reply, swallowed with a closed mouth and kept his eyes at the cement floor.
by then, one medic had been back with a handful of q-tips and canister of jelly to put any superficial bleeding on his face to a halt. the other crept around his associate, purple latex gloves moving to press a very careful hand to a welt that was condensing hard against ares' bicep.
"what's your pain level on this, ares? it looks like the skin is almost broken, not quite... 1 to 10?"
"seven." ares hardened, lifted his head to allow the man to dab at his face with the cotton tips. a free hand went to inky strands, which were clung randomly across his swollen jaw, against his neck, slicked to the raked skin of both shoulders. his fingers shook as he attempted to push the wet hair away.
"how about here? 1-10?"
"f-five."
"does this hurt? right here?"
"not bad."
javier started to notice something different forming in ares' face, and it wasn't necessarily mirrored with pain, didn't look quite stricken - it more or less read nervousness. he could see the bouldered muscles of his shoulders start to perk and rise, tense, and his fists were clasped against the table's edge in a healthy grip. what was he holding back?
"that looks pretty bruised, there. can you feel it when i do this?"
"yeah..." there was something uncharacteristically soft about ares' voice, not to mention his lower lip.
"can you tilt your head back for me? right into the light?"
"yes..." the man's voice, hushed, sounded almost like a squeak, as he did what was instructed.
the instructor's brow knotted itself and lowered, watching hot pools of moisture gather, glass over ares' upward eyes until they were brimming full: "buddy, if something really does kill, you gotta say something." javier paused. "you gotta tell us"
"yeah, right underneath his eye, see here? his eye is going to be swollen shut by tomorrow morning.."
"yeah, i see that. this eye isn't too bad."
"arcel." javier urged, spying that ares's grip on the table's edge was now white-knuckled, and the tears he tried to will away had rolled from the corner of his eyes, face still in the ceiling.
the examination came to a halt. the medics stepped back and both exchanged looks of confusion with javier.
"what is it, arcel? arcel, what hurts? this doesn't match up, what's going on?" the mentor stepped closer and tried to look for something they had to have been missing.
"i want my mom..."